A Small Problem
by Sekihara Tae
Summary: Tifa is on the receiving end of a practical joke gone wrong.  Cloud/Tifa cloti
1. Chapter 1

Tifa put her hands on her hips, and directed her best glare at Yuffie. The one that made both Barret and Cid straighten up and act like adults, immediately, just because she said so. Yuffie was no exception, and promptly stopped laughing to gulp in trepidation instead.

This was particularly impressive, considering Tifa was – at the moment – only about a foot tall, and wearing a sarong made out of a cocktail napkin.

"Change me back right now," the miniaturized bartender ordered.

Yuffie nodded, hastily socketing the required materia, then concentrated and cast.

Distressingly, nothing happened. Tifa's tiny foot began to tap impatiently.

After double-checking her materia, the ninja tried again. Still nothing. Either her heal materia was defective, or there was something odd about the transform materia she'd used earlier. The evidence in favor of the latter was rather convincing: the mini spell shrunk whatever it was cast on, clothes and everything. This one had only shrunk Tifa herself, and did it while she had a ribbon equipped.

That foot was still tapping, the gesture remarkably threatening. It got worse when Tifa folded her arms. "What did you do, Yuffie?"

"Nothing!" the younger girl protested, "it's just a transform materia! I tried it on a Zolom yesterday!"

"Then why am I still the size of Marlene's _Marcie_ doll? Why did the spell even work in the first place?"

Yuffie shrugged, and attempted to appear nonchalant while still quaking in her knee high boots. "Well... it might have kind of sort of been an experimental materia," she explained.

"Experimental?" Tifa demanded.

A small nod.

"As in: not really sure what it might do, so it needs to be tested?"

Another, even smaller nod.

"And you used it on _me_?"

For a person with a chest the size of a matchbox, Tifa could really yell.

"I tested it first!"

"On a Zolom! And I bet you didn't try to change it back into its normal, huge, rampaging self afterward, did you?"

Point. She definitely hadn't, choosing instead to book it out of there and let the spell wear off on its own. "Look, it'll probably wear off in another half-hour or so. Just be patient."

If she hadn't been reduced to a mere twelve inches tall – if that – and wearing paper clothing, Tifa would have snorted at the idea of Yuffie counseling anyone to be patient. "Fine. Tell me where you got this 'experimental' materia while _we _wait."

* * *

Three hours later, they were still waiting, and Tifa was heartily wishing she could shake the younger girl. They'd tried casting _esuna_ again – more than once; they'd tried draping her ribbon around her waist like an over long sash; they'd tried a remedy – although Tifa couldn't manage much of the thick liquid in her current state: nothing worked, and both women were close to the end of their ropes. Yuffie was near frantic, horrified she'd turned her best friend into a fashion doll. Initially Tifa was angry, and struggling to hold her temper; but as the clock ticked off the minutes, she was also starting to worry she might be stuck as a trophy model for the rest of her life.

"I still can't believe you thought it would be a good idea to use something you found in an old Shin-Ra storage facility on _me_!" her normal equanimity long since evaporated, Tifa's tone was sullen.

"I'm _sorry_!" Yuffie said, for what must have been the hundredth time. "D'you want me to try the _esuna_ again?" The ninja was collapsed on a barstool, her head in her arms, exhausted from the previous, repeated attempts. But if it kept Tifa from killing her in slow increments (exceptionally slow if they couldn't fix this), she was more than willing to keep at it.

"No..." sighing, Tifa acknowledged that Yuffie had done her best for the moment. "I'll just... try to be patient." She was good at being patient: she'd waited _years_ for Cloud to get his act together. A few more hours wearing a cocktail napkin shouldn't be so hard.

_Cloud._ She really – really – could use a hug, and – although it had taken some coaching at first – he was a fantastic snuggler. His body was always so warm, and he smelled so good, and there was something about the strength of his arms and the breadth of his shoulders that made her feel safe. Like everything was going to be okay.

Tifa really – _really _– needed to believe everything was going to be okay.

Unfortunately, Cloud had taken the kids to spend the afternoon with Barret, and she was far too small to properly enjoy it, even if he were home to give her the much-needed embrace.

Her morose train of thought was probably the reason Marlene startled her so, when the little girl threw open the door and announced, "We're home!"

Yuffie promptly started up out of her doze, falling gracelessly out of her chair. Tifa just barely managed to keep from taking a similar tumble from the edge of the bar, as she turned too quickly on the slippery surface.

Marlene, not having noticed the state Tifa was in, rushed across the room to help Yuffie to her feet, as Denzel and Cloud came through the door in a more sedate fashion. It was Cloud's quick blue gaze that spotted the diminutive bartender where she perched on the granite counter. His sudden, surprised stillness caught the attention of both children, who turned to stare as well.

"Tifa?" they gasped, inching forward to make sure their eyes weren't playing tricks on them.

Blushing and beyond embarrassed, she was grateful when Yuffie's squeal of outrage pulled the kids' focus away from her. His hand fisted in the ninja's jacket, preventing her escape, Cloud's eyes remained locked on Tifa. Given his calm, and the hold he had on Yuffie, he'd already figured out what had happened while they were gone.

"Marlene?" the little girl turned trusting, curious eyes to Cloud's face when he said her name. "I think Tifa would be more comfortable if she had some real clothes. Do you think maybe Marcie or her friends have something she could wear?" The entire, extended AVALANCHE family knew of Marlene's current fascination with _Marcie_, and Cloud had been required to look for the special edition 'Lockhart' doll everywhere he went during the weeks before her birthday. Being cooed at by motherly women was _not _something he'd forget in a hurry. Marlene's face lit up with excitement at the idea of playing dress-up with _Tifa_, while said individual looked both relieved at the idea of something a little less drafty to wear, and anxious about the thought of being a child's plaything. Cloud hastened to curb the enthusiasm of the former, and the fears of the latter. "Be very careful carrying her upstairs, Marlene, and just show her where the clothes are. Tifa can handle it from there." Nodding, Marlene dashed over to the bar and gingerly scooped Tifa into her arms, before heading up to the children's room.

Once the pair was out of sight, those blue eyes turned to Yuffie. "How long?"

Still hanging limply in his grasp, she didn't even bother to pretend to misunderstand. "All afternoon. Three, maybe four hours."

Cloud nodded. "Denzel, please go call Barret, and tell him we have a code YUFFIE here at the bar." The little boy nodded and followed Marlene upstairs, while Yuffie spluttered in outrage.

"You assigned me a codename?" she demanded, "Like a code red or a code blue or something?"

Unperturbed, Cloud walked the few paces necessary to reach the bar, and dropped her in one chair while he perched on another. "Yes. You're worse than a code red. Congratulations."

For a moment, he was certain Yuffie was going to throw a tantrum like she used to. Her face was red, her hands clenched, and her eyes bright. He _hadn't_ expected her to throw herself at him, wailing. "I didn't mean to," she sobbed, hands fisted in his shirt, "it was just supposed to be a harmless joke." Her arms moved, as if to shake him for emphasis, but he was far more solid than she; instead, she just managed to push herself back and forth on her heels.

Sighing, Cloud wrapped her in a loose hug, one hand rubbing her back. Practice soothing Denzel and Marlene allowed him to be comforting rather than awkward, if still a bit stiff. "I know, Yuffie. But it was still a foolish thing to do, and being sorry isn't going to be enough. You have to help fix this."

Her response was to cry harder, even as she nodded into his shirt. The spell didn't last long, however, and ten minutes later she was assuring him – in a watery mumble - that he was much better with people than he used to be.

"Thanks," he replied blandly, as he searched under the bar for a paper towel she could use to wipe her face. "Now show me this materia."


	2. Chapter 2

After twenty minutes of struggling with buttons as big as her hand, Tifa was thoroughly fed up with both _Marcie_ and her clothing. Once she was restored to her right size, she was going to go down to the company and give them a stern talking-to about role models and promoting realistic self-images in young girls. And if – Minerva forbid it – the others couldn't find a way to put her back to normal, she'd get Cloud to make them hire her as the first ever life-sized doll model.

Because this? This was ridiculous. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her figure, _thank you_, and yet none of the doll's clothing fit. Not even the outfit supposedly styled after Tifa herself! The bustlines were all proving to be too big, while the waists were too small.

Which meant she was stuck wearing a pair of shortie pajamas, one of the few ensembles cut loose enough through the waist and seat to be comfortable. She'd never realized what a tease _Marcie_ was, though, as the material was quite a bit more see-through than anything in her own lingerie drawer. (This was, perhaps, a bit harsh. _Marcie_ wasn't anatomically correct, and so had no nipples or other things to show through the material.) At least it was better than a cocktail napkin, and the matching bathrobe and slippers fit passably well, too.

The only positive thing about the clothes being cut to fit some perverted executive's idea of the perfect woman – all huge breasts and waspish waist – was that Tifa didn't have to try on the impressive collection of ball gowns. For a single woman struggling to make a living (her current profession was Shin-Ra Administrative Assistant, Tifa thought) _Marcie_ had an awful lot of evening wear. Plus three wedding gowns and two fur coats. Marlene had been excited at the prospect of getting Tifa into all of that extremely feminine finery (lace and sparkles and flowers were liberally scattered _everywhere_), until the black vinyl shorts that came with the _Lockhart_ doll had been impossible to fasten. At that revelation, the little girl's plans to spend the afternoon playing dress-up were effectively derailed, although she did wheedle and plead until Tifa agreed to try on one – and only one – of the formal wear outfits.

So when Cloud came into the children's room, he found Tifa clasping the least frothy of _Marcie_'s wedding dresses to her chest, her tiny features twisted into an expression of mild annoyance. It was so far from what he'd expected as to be surreal.

"I'm sorry, Marlene," she was saying, as the little girl tugged at the stubborn zipper, "it's just not going to fit."

"But it's so pretty!" Marlene protested, before catching sight of Cloud in the doorway. "Don't you think Tifa looks pretty, Cloud?" she demanded.

Tifa froze, face and chest flushing a bright pink with embarrassment as she looked up to verify that yes, her boyfriend-slash-lover was present for this humiliating little episode. "Marlene picked it!" she blurted out, absurdly desperate to be certain he didn't think any part of this was her idea. Because it most definitely wasn't. It would be bad enough if he caught her trying on _real_ wedding gowns; surely living vicariously through a fashion doll's wardrobe was even worse, and definitely more pathetic.

To her relief, his expression betrayed nothing but gentle amusement, although his eyes still held traces of concern relating to her current – shrunken – size.

"Yes, Marlene," he willingly agreed, "but it's a bit..." _Fancy? Long? Frilly?_ "...much. Couldn't you find anything more comfortable for her to wear?"

Marlene sighed – the long-suffering sigh of a child feeling constantly thwarted by adults – and gave up the wedding gown as a lost cause. "Marcie's clothes didn't fit very well, Cloud," she answered, "but we found a pair of pajamas and a robe."

"That's it?" Cloud's tone was mildly surprised.

"Uh-huh," Marlene's was distracted as she helped Tifa fight her way free of stiff net petticoats and the overlong train of the gown. "Tifa says Marcie has a body dreamed up by plastic surgeons."

"Mar_lene_!"

Tifa's high-pitched and somewhat tinny protest earned a slight smile from Cloud and a puzzled look from the child.

"Well you _did_," Marlene stated in tones of baffled confusion. "You were really cross about it, too-"

"Thank you for your help, sweetie," Tifa cut in before anymore secrets regarding exactly how poorly she was coping could be revealed. "Why don't you find Denzel and the two of you have a snack? There's fruit salad in the fridge."

Marlene willingly accepted the offered distraction, skipping out of the room and leaving Tifa to finish getting dressed on her own. She was tying the belt on the robe when Cloud spoke.

"It wouldn't be a fair fight."

Tifa blinked, and looked over her shoulder to find him changing out the materia in his bracer. "What wouldn't?"

"You versus Marcie." There was definite humor in his tone. "You were glaring at her like you wanted to plant your fist in her face. If it'd make you feel better, go ahead, but it really wouldn't be a fair fight."

"Oh!" She hadn't realized she'd been staring, much less threatening mayhem with her eyes. _Marcie_ – or, rather, one of her incarnations – was currently propped up in the cardboard 'wardrobe' that held the bulk of her clothes. "It wouldn't even muss her perfectly painted-on features anyway," she answered, congratulating herself on keeping the resentment down to a minimum.

His soft laugh washed over her, somehow comforting, and then the sound... changed... and warm arms folded her close in the hug she'd been wanting all afternoon.

Her dear, sweet, _protective_ man had shrunken himself. It was ridiculous, but so exactly what she needed, and she turned to bury her face in his open collar. For a few moments, wrapped in his arms and familiar scent, with the well-known texture of his shirt brushing her cheek, she could pretend there was nothing wrong. It certainly didn't feel any different: Cloud was as strong and solid as ever.

"I sent Yuffie to the WRO," he told her after a few moments of quiet communion, his fingers sliding through her hair to rub comfortingly over her back and shoulders. "According to her, their were 'volumes' of research data with the materia when she found it. Although she kept the stone, she turned the files over to Reeve." Which was lucky, because Reeve was thorough and methodical and would have filed it away in case it was needed later... whereas if Yuffie had kept the paperwork as well as the materia, it would have been used to start camp fires and build lopsided airplanes. "She took the materia with her as well, in case Shelke can shed light on it just by looking." It was definitely possible. Stranger things had happened.

Tifa felt herself relax at the news. It wasn't a solution, but surely it was a step in the right direction. Someone – even if it wasn't _her_ – was working to restore normalcy.

"Shera is coming to help you keep an eye on Denzel and Marlene." Unspoken was the fact that all three would be keeping an eye on Tifa. Life was dangerous when you were only a hand-span high.

"What about you?" Because it was a given that Cloud was planning something.

"Barret, Cid and I are going hunting for the Tiny Zolom Terror." The mixed exasperation and humor let her know Yuffie was the source of the critter's new title. "If we have to, we'll catch another monster to bring back as a test subject, but I'd rather find the one Yuffie already shrank." For a number of reasons, the most important of which was the fact that the zolom had been under the effect of the materia for longer than Tifa. Finding it could tell them if there were any other surprises – aside from the prolonged _mini_ state – in store.

"Makes sense. And Vincent?"

Cloud's smile was apparent in his voice. "He's coming to babysit Yuffie, so the rest of us don't have to worry about the trouble she's causing."

Laughing, she pulled back out of his embrace, ready to stand on her own again. "What did poor Vincent do to you?"

"Nothing." Mako eyes carefully scanned her face, the tension in the corners eased by whatever he saw in her expression. "But I'm going to be busy, and he's the next best person to reign her in."

Tifa was fairly certain that 'best' in this case meant 'most annoying', at least from Yuffie's perspective. She laughed again, and Cloud leaned in to let the sound play against his mouth as he kissed her.

"So, you'll be heading out once Cid and Shera get here?" if her question was somewhat breathless, she laid the blame entirely on his shoulders.

"Yeah. Just... stay close to Shera while we're gone, okay?"

"Cloud, I'm not even a foot high. I'll be careful."

This time, he was the one to relax. "Good," he answered, giving her another brief kiss, "'cause Marcie's boyfriend Ben is eyeing your backside, and he's taller than I am. I think he's intrigued now that he's seen a real woman for the first time." His tone was completely deadpan. "Don't be flashing him if you have to change again, the bastard would absolutely refuse to close his eyes."

Impossibly, considering the day she'd had, Tifa burst out laughing for the third time, and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Cloud."


End file.
